


Mixtures

by dirtymattress



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtymattress/pseuds/dirtymattress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"have you ever done a fic about Harry and a black or mixed chic? If you haven't that would be great if you did!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mixtures

**Author's Note:**

> I get this request a lot, I mean probably dozens if not hundreds of times since I’ve started writing for this fandom. Sadly, I don’t really write much het anymore but figured I would write something short for this. It’s really short actually and unedited :)

“There are rules to this, you know.”  
  
“Rules? Like, things I can and can’t do?”  
  
“Um,” she blushes, cheeks glowing a soft pink as she ducks her head down. She’s gorgeous. “Yeah, things you can and can’t do. I guess.”  
  
“Is there a book? Youtube link? Have you written this all down for me?”  
  
“Har har, don’t be a jerk.”  
  
“Just saying, love, never dated someone with rules before.”  
  
“Well I’ve never dated someone with millions of fans before. You have rules too, you know, you’ve just never had to come right out and say them…”   
  
Harry furrows his brows and looks over at her, face half squashed in his pillow. “I’ve never given you rules!”  
  
She’s glowing, her skin bright and dark, her hair messy and gathered at the top of her head. She’s wearing Harry’s favorite t shirt, the fabric falling off her shoulder and a simple pair of cotton underwear. It’s so simple and underrated and Harry doesn’t think she’s ever looks so beautiful.  
  
“They’re implied H, there’s nothing wrong with them.”  
  
“I have never given you rules!”  
  
“Don’t take pictures with fans,” She rattles off with a smug expression. “No matter how nice or innocent, or they’ll think I’ma fame whore. Don’t talk to the paps or I’m using you, don’t post cute coupley pictures of you on twitter or I’m a show off, don’t secretly cut your hair off in the middle of the night. These are things I have to live with, things I have to deal with when it comes to being with someone like you.”  
  
“I thought you liked my hair.”  
  
She lifts her spoon from the ice cream container sitting between them on the bed and licks it clean, talking around it. “I love you hair.”  
  
“But you want to cut it off?”  
  
“No, Jesus that’s all you took from what I said? I don’t want to cut your hair but even if I did, I can’t.”  
  
“I’m so confused… what are your rules then? C’mon, hit me. I’m ready. Do I need to get a pen and paper?” She rolls her eyes, pinching his hip until he rolls over onto his side to face her.  
  
“You… my hair can’t get wet. Like, it gets really frizzy when it gets wet and that’s something I’ve kept hidden because when you’re dating someone you have to look perfect and stuff but now that I guess you’re stuck with me for awhile it’s time you knew. My hair, it gets frizzy, when it gets wet.”  
  
Harry’s staring at her blankly, not exactly sure if he should laugh or not.  
  
“Baby-”  
  
“That’s not all! No, wait. My parents. Don’t judge me for them, they’re really old school… I haven’t exactly told them I know you let alone that I’m dating you.” She pauses and Harry just nods, that’s understandable. “I mean, mum might be a bit gutted when I bring you home and you don’t look like Idris Elba.”  
  
“Well, _I’m_ a bit upset I don’t look like Idria Elba.” She grins, leaning down for a soft peck on the lips but laughs when Harry tries to follow her, looking for more. “Is that all?”  
  
“I’m sensitive, I know not everyone’s going to be happy. I know racism is still alive or whatever but when I’m sad just be there, you know? When someone gets to me just- just lie down with me and just be there. Yeah?”  
  
“Baby,” Harry whispers, sitting up so their knees touch. “Did you know that on our first date —remember that night? I took you to that Italian restaurant and it started raining and you ran to the car so fast, do you remember that? I never told you, but your hair actually started to grow. Like, I was driving and I would look over and it was getting bigger.”  
  
“I hate you-”  
  
“I swear, it was the frizziest head of hair I’d ever seen! You looked like a lion. I wanted to throw you my hat, I promise you. I thought it was going to take over the car-”  
  
“You are the absolute worst-”  
  
“But it was so cute, baby. Your frizzy hair was so fucking cute, I just wanted to look at you trying to run your fingers through it all night. You were so flustered and annoyed and your nose, your nose did that little scrunched up bunny thing. Like right now, I love it when your nose does that. I love your i hate you face, I love your frizzy hair.”  
  
“No you don’t, no one loves frizzy hair.”  
  
“Well I do. I love when your hair is straight and when it’s curly and when it’s frizzy, I love it all. And don’t worry about your mum. Mum’s love me, I’m ridiculously charming.”  
  
“You’re ridiculously modest as well, good job.”  
  
“Think of is this way, we can be the next Seal and Heidi Klum!”  
  
“Are you saying I look like Seal?”  
  
“Only if I can look like Heidi Klum. Could you imagine me with breasts, babe?” Harry grins, squeezing his chest obnoxiously. She just laughs, moving the ice cream to their side table and tackling him, pushing him back on the bed until she’s straddling his slim hips.  
  
“They do have pretty kids, I guess.”  
  
“Our kids would be cuter, way cuter.” Harry smiles softly, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear before trailing his knuckles down her chin.  
  
“Yeah? We would have pretty babies. Skin like cinnamon, eyes like emeralds-”  
  
“Hair like a chia pet.” She laughs loudly, punching him in his chest before settling down on top of his body, head nestled in the curve of his neck. They’re quiet for awhile, the sound of the forgotten TV fluttering through the small bedroom.  
  
“They’re gonna say you have jungle fever,” she says softly, so soft he almost misses the sadness. “Going for a swirl, say you’re dipping in the coffee pot-”  
  
“I only drink tea. With milk.”  
  
“You are ridiculous, can’t you take anything seriously?”  
  
“What’s to take seriously? You care too much about what people will say. This is about us, remember?”  
  
“I only care too much because you don’t care about anything at all!”  
  
“I care about you.”  
  
“Oh golly gee… I should have been a Liam girl, would have been so much easier.  How did I get caught up with the likes of you?  
  
“Heyyyy!” Harry whines, squeezing his arms tight around her until she giggles. She leans up on his chest, fingertips walking up the side of his face while she thinks to herself. With a heavy sigh, she slides off his body and buries herself into his side.  
  
“Do you really want to do this?” She whispers, face hidden. Harry watches his pale fingers, long and calloused, trace up the creaminess of her thigh, a trail of goosebumps left in their wake. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so beautiful, the dance their skin tones play together. It’s hypnotic like the soft brown of her eyes, the tight ringlets of her hair, the fullness of her lips. Exotic, Harry thinks they’ll say.  
  
“I want to be with you.” He whispers, tilting her chin up to push a soft kiss to her lips before he grins big and wide, “the world will just have to deal with big ol’ green eyed chia pet babies.”


End file.
